staring at the infinite

anonymous asked:

Ti manca?

Mi manca, si.
Sarò sincera.
Ultimamente sento la mancanza per cos'eravamo, chi era lui invece di chi si sta mostrando ora.
Il suo comportamento non ha scusanti ma io lo scuso ogni volta.
Sono veramente delusa da ciò che è successo.
Non ho parole per descrivere l'accaduto.
Sono solo delusa.
Come ho già detto io a quelle promesse ci credevo, a quelle parole che per me erano piene d'amore.
Mi manca come l'aria ma bisogna andare avanti, nel bene e nel male.
Vorrei poter tornare indietro e rivivere ogni singolo istante perché è lì che vorrei stare.
Mi manca ridere, scherzare.
Mi mancano le chiamate infinite.
Mi manca sentirlo tra la notte del sabato e quella della domenica in cui ritorna dalle feste.
Mi manca tanto.
Io credo molto nei desideri, ogni volta che ho l'opportunità di esprimerli prego che lui ritorni da me con l'atteggiamento di un tempo.
Vorrei tante cose ma la realtà è che non ne ho manco una, ad esempio lui.

And All This Devotion (1/1)

Happy Valentine’s Day, @once-upon-a-captain-swan!

Hi, dollface! I’m your CSSV and had so much fun writing this for you. I’ve enjoyed our little chats over the last few weeks and I hope you enjoy the story. I tried to put as many little touches of you in it as I could. 

xoxo,

Megan

****

The knock came at 2:05. It was tentative, barely pulling Killian out of a dreamless sleep and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. Fuzzy-brained, he was a second away from chalking it up to a rattling pipe or noise from the street when another knock came, this one more insistent. 

Tossing the covers off and cursing as he kicked his feet free from the tangled sheet, he padded through the living room, throwing the deadbolt and dramatically pulling the door open, ready to give his untimely visitor hell while wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs and a scowl.

The piss and vinegar was short-lived when his eyes fell onto the figure standing in the hallway. 

Her face was red and blotchy with strands of blonde hair sticking to tear tracks. A cheap diaper bag, stretched to the limits and overflowing, was slung over her shoulder, one of those infant car seats designed for carrying at her feet, the baby inside asleep. 

Chin lifting just enough to convey some measure of pride, her eyes wouldn’t rise enough meet his. When she spoke it was to the dog tags resting on his chest.

“We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

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12x10 coda

Sam had long since gone to bed and Dean had wandered off not long after, supposedly also calling it a night, but Cas is still sitting at the war room table, staring at Warsaw with infinite and indiscernible thoughts rushing through his mind. Sam and Dean’s words, their praise, their assurance, their gratitude, overlayed every shred of information coursing through him. It made his stomach warm, his chest swell. It made him feel so full he could hardly stand it.

But there was also the doubt.

Cas was so blinded by it. They’re only telling you what you want to hear so you won’t leave them. You’re a tool, Castiel, nothing more. Everything they touch is ruined, how are you any different? You’re their pet. They’re attack dog. You’re--

“Cas?”

Cas blinks and looks up to see Dean standing beside him, brows pinched into that worried expression that he gets that Cas doesn’t really understand.

“I said your name like ten times, man. What’s wrong?”

Cas shakes his head, sitting up a bit more in his chair. “It’s nothing. Just thinking.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. “Well, don’t hurt yourself.”

Cas rolls his eyes and looks down at his own hands clasped in his lap.

Keep reading

marino-kun  asked:

Do you take prompt? What about Stiles having a secret crush on Derek but when saw him, taking care Scott's son, he fell in love.

I’m not much of a kid fic person, so this took me a while, but I tried. Hopefully it’s kind of what you were angling for!

*

“Do you think I’m ready for fatherhood?” Stiles asks, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He’s not freaking out about this. He’s not.

Boyd says flatly, “Stilinski, you’re twenty-one years old. You’re supposed to know how to use a condom by now.“

Stiles’ hand spasms and he accidentally squirts a huge glob of ketchup on his mound of curly fries. Fuck. He has the ideal ketchup-to-curly-fry ratio down to a science, and this is not it. “No, absolutely not what I meant. It’s just. Did you know Derek had a kid?”

Boyd meditatively takes a bite of his burger. “No. But the nice thing about Derek is that he doesn’t go in for personal talk.”

Stiles shoots him a weird look. Of course Boyd would think that was nice. Stiles, though, has been trying to break down Derek’s walls even just a little bit for months now—sitting with him in class, sharing his notes, studying with him in the library and getting late-night waffles together afterwards, little by little pulling Derek out of his shell. He’d thought he was getting somewhere, but obviously not, not if Derek failed to mention this kid even existed.

Which he does. Stiles knows, because he can see him right now, over by Prof. Martin’s pool. Apparently his name is Jamie.

He’s one of only two kids here, which is not really unexpected given that this is the end-of-semester party for Prof. Martin’s honors criminal psych class. Not too many college kids around here with children. Stiles had assumed, like an idiot, that that was true for Derek, too. Or, more like, he hadn’t ever thought to wonder about it. He probably should have. At twenty-six, Derek is older than everyone else in the class except the professor. It’s totally plausible for a twenty-six-year-old to have a kid.

What seems less plausible is that that twenty-six-year-old with a kid would be Derek Hale. He just doesn’t look like Stiles’ idea of a dad. He came into class the first day in a leather jacket and tight jeans with this don’t-talk-to-me smolder, and Stiles spent most of that session pretending to look over the syllabus with the rest of the class while actually wondering what Derek looked like naked. He feels kind of skeevy about it now, if Derek is somebody’s dad.

It seems more and more likely that he is. The kid is a dark-haired little boy, not very talkative, and not five minutes after they arrived, he’d already bitten Prof. Martin’s daughter on the arm and been banished to time-out. That was about when Stiles felt he had to accept that yep, that was probably Derek’s kid.

Now Jamie and Derek are sitting together on the edge of the pool, dipping their feet in the water. Jamie is sniffling, but as Stiles watches, Derek pulls a kleenex out of the pocket of his leather jacket and carefully—tenderly, even—wipes at the kid’s face with it. Derek’s saying something to him, and he’s got this achingly gentle smile on his face that Stiles has never seen before, and then he’s pulling a quarter out of his pocket. At the flash of silver the kid stops crying, looking tentatively interested. Derek winks at him and pretends to put the coin back in his pocket, then reaches up and plucks it from behind his ear. Jamie stares at it, and then at Derek, dumbfounded. Derek does it a second time, faster, tickling the kid’s ear as he “finds” the coin, and Jamie giggles. It’s basically illegal levels of adorable.

Yeah, that confirms it. It’s definitely more than a simple lust-crush thing at this point, and Stiles is fucked.

Stiles looks over at Boyd. He’s busy on his phone, typing out a meticulous, grammatically correct reply to a wall of emojis from Erica. “So…” Stiles prompts. “Fatherhood?”

“I think you’re closer to needing adult supervision yourself than providing it to others,” Boyd decides, hitting send on his text. “You can be the fun uncle, at most.”

“Hmm,” Stiles says, and morosely eats a curly fry.

*

Stiles is over at the cooler on the patio, digging around through the ice to see if there’s any beer left, when someone clears their throat behind him. He waffles and snags a Sprite and turns around to see Derek hovering there, leaning an elbow on the railing.  

Stiles pops the tab open on his can and tries for a casual bro nod. “Hey. ‘Sup.”

“I like your shirt,” Derek says, biting his lip. “I am Groot.”

Stiles smiles and runs a hand down his chest, over the baby Groot on his shirt. “Yeah. I wasn’t gonna buy any more graphic tees, but then I saw it and I was powerless to resist.”

“Have you seen the sequel yet?”

Stiles throws his head back and groans. “No, and it’s killing me. I can’t wait. I’ve watched the trailer like ten times. I’ve been forcing myself to stay in my dorm and study, though. No movies for me. I mean, the way everyone was talking, I thought for sure Professor Martin’s final was going to torpedo my GPA. I’m actually feeling pretty good about it, though. I think I probably got, like, a low A. You?”

“Same. I feel sorry for anybody who didn’t keep up with the readings, though. That would torpedo their grade.”

Stiles snorts. He knows exactly who didn’t do the readings, because most of them are huddled together in a glum little group at the picnic table at the edge of the yard. “Definitely. There was so much on the final that was never even mentioned in class.”

Derek looks at him, lingering in a way that makes Stiles’ skin feel too hot. “I guess now that that’s over with, you can finally see the movie.”

“Yeah.” Stiles laughs, nervous without quite knowing why. Maybe it’s just that when Derek looks at him, it always makes him kind of nervous. “Guess so.”

Derek picks at the peeling label on his lemonade bottle, asks, “Do you maybe want to go see it with me?”

Oh.

On the one hand, YES, hell yes, Stiles wants that, and the fact that Derek wants that makes him feel like breaking out dancing right here, right now, but—maybe Stiles feels slightly less like he should want it now than he did, oh, say, this morning.

In the distance, he can hear Jamie shriek-laughing down on the lawn as Heather tickle-attacks him. Dating Derek—seriously dating, because Stiles wouldn’t be down for casual, not in this case—would mean being in that kid’s life, maybe even eventually being that kid’s step-parent. And yeah, Jamie is cute. So is seeing how good Derek is with kids. But… Stiles’ gut reaction is “Yikes.”

Stiles agrees with Boyd on this one: Stiles should be the fun uncle at most. Stiles as a dad, responsible for the well-being of a small child? Yikes. Double yikes. Infinite yikes.

Derek is still staring at him, his smile fading to something more closed-off, more nervous, the longer Stiles doesn’t say anything. By the time Stiles says, “No, I—I’m sorry. I wish I could, but I can’t,” Derek doesn’t even look that surprised, more… resigned. Sad.

“Okay, well…” he says. “Thanks for considering it.” He nods, once, without quite looking at Stiles. Then he sets his lemonade down on the railing and walks away.

*

Stiles doesn’t really feel much like partying after that. There’s nothing like rejecting your crush—after a whole semester of trying to get them to ask you out, no less!—to ruin the mood. And anyway, he’s already eaten and socialized and done his time sitting around in the sunshine. He’s probably going to have sunburn all over his face and neck tomorrow to go along with his Derek-asked-me-out-and-I-said-no moping. He can be both emotionally and physically miserable at the same time. Great.

When he opens Prof. Martin’s front door, heading out to his Jeep parked up on the road, there’s a man jogging up the porch steps. He slows when he sees Stiles, shooting him a friendly enough smile.

“Everyone’s out back,” Stiles says. The guy looks a little older, like Derek’s age, maybe, and he has a tattoo on his arm, two thick dark lines. He definitely wasn’t in their class this semester. “Are you a friend of Professor Martin’s?”

“No, actually, I don’t know her. I’m Scott. I’m a friend of Derek’s. I’m just here to pick up my son for his dentist appointment.”

Stiles isn’t sure what his heart just did in response to that, but it’s probably nothing good. “Your son as in, the little boy who likes to bite people?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a phase he’s been going through,” Scott says apologetically, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “We’re working on it. Hope he wasn’t too much of a problem today. Derek asked Professor Martin if he could come, and she said it would be fine, so…”

“Yeah, it’s been good,” Stiles manages to say through his inner mantra of Stiles, you idiot.  

“Awesome. When Jamie heard Derek was going to a party, he just got so excited, you know? Kira—my wife—she tried to tell him it was a grown-up party, but he was really insistent. He’s kind of obsessed with Derek right now. Everything Derek does, Jamie wants to do.” Scott laughs a little. “You should’ve seen how excited he was when Kira hinted he might get a jacket just like Derek’s for his birthday.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles says faintly, because that mental image is almost too cute to handle. Also… apparently he isn’t leaving yet after all.

*

Stiles lingers as unobtrusively as possible on the back patio until Scott has collected Jamie from Derek, and then he heads over. For once, he’s able to sneak up on Derek, even though this time he’s not even trying. Derek’s clearly lost in his own head, standing alone over by the pool and staring down into the still water.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles says, drifting to a stop a few feet away.

Derek jumps a little, then sees who it is and looks even more startled.

Stiles snorts. “Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” Derek says, unconvincingly.

“Right, well. I just… I was just wondering if you still wanted to see that movie.”

Derek eyes him, wary and kind of puzzled. “Thirty minutes ago you said—”

“I know what I said. What I said was stupid.”

Derek’s expression doesn’t change, except to look incrementally more confused.

Stiles sighs. He’s just going to have to say it. “Thirty minutes ago I thought you were Jamie’s dad, okay? Now I know better.”

Derek uncrosses his arms. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And I figured… The date was probably going to go pretty well, and then there’d be another one and another.”

“That’s confident of you,” Derek says, cautiously pleased.

“Well,” Stiles shrugs, “I think I’ve spent enough time with you by now to know we’d be pretty great together, and honestly? I’m crazy about you. Any relationship with you, I would work like hell to make it work.”

Derek looks a little stunned.

Stiles forges on, hoping he’s not creeping Derek out. “So yeah, I figured if I said yes, it wouldn’t be just one date. And I figured I shouldn’t just jump into that without being prepared for what it might mean. Long-term.”

Derek steps in a little closer, and he’s just staring at Stiles and not saying anything and it’s wreaking havoc on Stiles’ nerves.

So, of course, he keeps talking, and talking. “Before you get creeped out, trust me, I know you’re just asking me out, not proposing marriage or whatever, but listen, I’m not going to jump into something with you if I’m not ready for the possibility of it getting serious one day. When you showed up with Jamie, I thought things getting serious between us might include your kid, and… Honestly, I’m not sure I want kids, and that’s not even getting into whether it’d be a good idea to give me a child. I feel like that could actually be a very terrifying idea, both for me and for him.”

“Stiles—”

“I mean, I’m happy enough seeing other people’s kids once in a while and then sending them home to their parents, you know? So I guess what I’m trying to say is, finding out you don’t have kids was basically the best news of my life because now I can say yes, like, the most enthusiastic of yeses—”

Derek kisses him. Stiles agreeably stops trying to talk, letting his eyes fall shut and his hands drift down to twist in Derek’s shirt. Who needs talking, anyway, when he has Derek gently coaxing his mouth open with his tongue. That’s the kind of communication style Stiles can really get behind.

After the third wolf-whistle from over by the picnic table, they reluctantly break apart. Derek looks satisfyingly dazed. Stiles feels like he probably does, too, because wow.

“I guess that was a yes to my yes?”

“That was a ‘Stiles, shut up before you run out of oxygen.’” Derek smiles. “And it was a yes.”

Awesome.

(end)

The Stars in Your Eyes

Request from anon: hey, can you do an imagine where Draco and the reader are best friends and the reader just LOVES constellations? So at night they sit together and look at the sky and the reader starts naming the constellations which makes Draco fall in love with her? Thanks x

Thanks so much for requesting, incidentally, I love constellations! As soon as I’m old enough I want to get a tattoo of my parents constellations! I think the stars are so cool (probably because i’m a ‘science nerd’) anyway, I’ll stop blabbering now 😂 I actually added some stuff about the constellation ‘Draco’ because a lot of the HP characters are named after constellations.

Originally posted by 1980vibes

You stand, your hands gripped gently around the rusty railing of the astronomy tower as you stared up at the stars. You’d always been mesmerised by the infinite possibility of what could be out there: it excited you, but not nearly half as much as it worried you. You always enjoyed stargazing at Hogwarts because it was in the highlands; back home, there was light pollution and most nights you could barely see the night sky.

“You gaze at the stars like they have stories to tell.” Draco, your best friend of God knows how many years justifies with a smile on his face. You break away from looking at the glistening white dots for a few seconds to glance over his features that were lit so perfectly in the dim light. “They do,” you began. you pointed up at the sky, showing Draco the loose outline of the constellation you so often admired. “This one’s Cassiopeia. It’s named after a vain queen named Cassiopeia in Greek mythology, who boasted about her incomparable beauty.” You smiled, quarrelling the reality of Greek mythology. “And this one’s Scorpius, notice it’s scorpion shape?” You note, as Draco watches you intently, realising for the first time how much you really knew about the stars. 

“What’s that one?” Draco asked, pointing at the cluster of stars that lay near the horizon. You thought for a few moments before answering. “It’s Ursa Major. It’s so beautiful.” Draco smiled at your passion. He watched as you smiled up at the sky. It had hit him like a tonne of bricks, but he began to wonder when you’d become so beautiful; he’d never thought this way about you before, but all he wanted to do was lean over and kiss you. You looked so gorgeous. 

“What’s your favourite constellation?” He asked, not daring to look away from you in case he missed anything. “You’re not going to believe me.” You chuckled, breaking away from your mesmerisation with the sky to look at Draco. “Try me.” He said, a smile forming upon his lips. “Okay, well, it’s actually Draco.” You breathed. You could’ve sworn you saw Draco blush but you couldn’t tell because of the black and white light that had been cast from the night sky. “Look.” You began, gently placing your fingers under his chin so that he could see the constellation that was by far the prettiest of them all. “Do you see it? It looks like some sort of dragon-snake hybrid. It’s amazing.” You whisper, smiling as you take in it’s beauty. 

Draco nods, turning to look at you once again. “It’s amazing, Y/N. You’re amazing.” He mumbles, scratching his neck. “And, it’s named after me.” You chuckle. “Well, technically, you’re the one named after it.” You justify. You both stand in silence for a few more moments, analysing each other. “What are you thinking?” You ask after watching Draco’s expression turn into a smile. “It’s weird,” Draco begins. “I swear I can see the stars in your eyes, Y/N.” 

anonymous asked:

YO sign me tf up for alpha Yakuza Hanzo like hell yes imagine just how dominate he would be 247 and imagine if reader comes back from a trip to the spa or something And one of the beauticians (Idk what they're called) was an alpha and bc reader got a massage (wearing just a towel might i add) the other alphas smell is soaked in her skin and Hanzo is NOT having it omg and just the thought of HIS omega/beta with an alpha that wasn't him makes his blood boil (bonus if reader did it intentionally)

“Han-zo”, you hummed each syllable sweetly, standing in the door of his office, a charmed grin resting on your lips. The Alpha didn’t look up from the holoscreen in front of him, his fingers dancing across the keyboard, brow knit in obvious frustration. Nibbling slightly on your bottom lip, your head tilted to the side as you took a half step forward and into the room. “My dearest, is everything alright?”

He still hadn’t responded as you moved further into the room, still focused on his work as you came up at his side. His suit jacket had been laid neatly over the back of his tall leather rolling chair, the sleeves of his navy button up rolled up to his elbow, revealing part of his twin dragon tattoo. His long hair was tied up, as it usually was when he ventured out, the graying at his temples a stark contrast to his cool raven locks. His fingers paused for a moment when your hand touched his shoulder, sighing regretfully as the back of your fingers lightly stroked his jawline. He eased into your touch, his deep brown eyes glancing your way before his hand captured yours, lightly tugging your hand to his lips. Purring low in your throat, you smiled as he kissed your palm then your fingertips, an apologetic glint in his eyes as he looked up at you.

“Beloved”, he began, your hand curling up slightly at the tone. He didn’t release your hand, turning it over and pressing his soft lips against your knuckles. Your smile fell, a pout replacing the expression that had once been on your face. “Something has come up. I will not be able to join you today.”

Your shoulders drooped, a quiet whine twisting up from your chest as disappointment set in heavy in you. Busy would be a grand understatement for how Hanzo had been for the last two weeks, the man working from dawn until after midnight, trying to smooth out a ‘shipment’ as he said. You were starved for attention from your Alpha, missing his touch, his presence, his thoughtfulness. It wasn’t that you wanted to interrupt his work, no far from it, but as an omega you craved him, your own psyche, body demanding his attentiveness. The spa day had been his idea, an apology and reward, for being so patient and tolerant despite the last few weeks of neglect. You knew the words you were about to say were petulant and bratty but you couldn’t help it, your stomach twisting with discontent.

“But you promised”, you whimpered softly, watching as his lips twitch downward slightly. He closed his eyes once more and regained his resolve, kissing your hand as he looked into your eyes once more. He was steeling himself against your voice, the natural persuasive tone of an omega tempting him yet not fully swaying the man.

“I know”, he said, pressing yet another kiss to your palm. “But you know I do not cancel without reason, my beloved. If I am able, I will join you for lunch. Try to enjoy yourself?”

The upward inflection at the end made your heart twist up, knowing he was regretful yet that doing nothing to quell the sulleness that tugged within you. He still wanted you to enjoy yourself, to have a good time, which you knew you would, but it just wouldn’t be the same without him.

“Fine”, you said, voice small, still pouting slightly as he tugged your hand in an indication for you to dip down.

You did as he silently asked, his hand releasing yours to cup your cheek lightly, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. You shivered, sighing softly into him as his fingers drifted downwards and grazed against the mark on the junction of your neck and shoulder. It was a gentle, supplicating touch that sent spirals of heat down your spine and into your chest. Pulling back, a war of emotions tugged at your face before a slight smile settled onto your lips, taking a few steps away from your mate. He graced you with one final smile before turning back to his computer, the smile turning back into a pout as you moved out of his office and house and towards the waiting car. As the omnic chalet closed the door and you began to pull from the historic Shimada estate, you crossed your legs slowly, a devilish thought brewing in your head. Sure it was immature, sure it was childish, but…it just might work to garner his full attention on you. Snickering softly, you leaned back into the leather seat of the holocar and chuckled softly, just hoping your plan worked.

Your body was relaxed, leaning back into the leather seat as the chalet pulled you towards the entrance of the main house. You had gotten the full body treatment, changed from a couples full package to just a singles. You had received a full body gold flake message that left your skin radiant, the keratin treatment leaving your hair soft, shiny and bone straight. You had received a facial, your brows had been plucked and your nails manicured and pedicured. It was absolutely delightful, but you knew it would have been infinitely better if Hanzo had joined you. Staring out the window of the car as it slowed in front of the main estate, your eyes lit up when you saw Hanzo, the man moving towards the car as it slowed to a stop. Forcing yourself to it up straight, you forced the mischief from your smile and focused on making it sweeter as Hanzo opened the door, offering you his hand. As you stepped out of the air conditioned car you could feel him stiffen, a knowing smile taking over your expression as he took a half step back.

“Hello my darling”, you purred to him, gently lifting your long skirt as you stepped out of the car, barely nipping out the squeak as he pulled you tight against his body. Those around you would believe the oyabun of the Shimada-gumi was pressing a gentle kiss against your jawline, a show of affection for his omega. But no, Hanzo was nosing your neck, a soft growl beginning to build in the back of his throat. His arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he stood up straight, twisting your head up to look up him and batting your eyelashes innocently. “Is something wrong Hanzo?”

You shivered at the possessive glare that he threw back at you, your smile turning sly as he pulled his gaze away as he began to lead you inside. His steps were brisk, pausing only to change from outdoor shoes to house slippers, his scent growing sharper with each step as he led and you followed. The scent of him permeated around you, the glands on his wrists bleeding the scent into your clothing, making your head swim with need for him. A soft sound of confusion left your mouth as he turned down one of the estate’s long hallways and moved towards the guest quarters, brow furrowing as he pulled you into the largest guest room. Just as the door slid shut, Hanzo stepped towards you, chest to chest, your mask of naivete chipping as his hands grabbed at your hips.

“Beloved”, he growled softly, his aura and the word dripping with dominance as he locked eyes with you. Your tongue darted out and licked at your bottom lip, feeling your heartbeat pick up as he pressed himself flush against you. He dipped his head down again, nuzzling against the side of your scent glands and giving your neck an admonishing nip. “Whose scent is this on my omega?”

He punctuated his statements with nibbles against your skin, your focus heady as the pure essence of Hanzo poured over you, making your body feel hot. A soft, breathy whine spilled from your lips as he pressed hard kisses to your neck and mark and shoulder, a surprised whine fumbling from your mouth as he nipped at your shoulder for your hesitation.

“Ay-Ayane w-was b-busy”, you stuttered out, earning a soft tut of reprimand at your stammer, his hands moving downward, pulling you tight against him once more. “S-so–Han!–nmmm…Ma-Manami d-did my massage instead!”

Each word was a struggle to get out, your body heat twisting and growing in your core as he continued his assault against your skin. He began to move with you, the man practically carrying you as he moved backwards.

“H-Hanzo wh-where are we going”, you questioned as he pulled his face away from your scent glands, eyes half-lidded and heavy with desire.

“I am going to bathe you of that—odor”, he stated simply, a chill of excitement spiralling up your spine. His attention, his touch, his scent, his care. You were absolutely giddy, biting down hard on your bottom lip to quiet the squeal that wanted to spill out.

“O-okay!”

anonymous asked:

Oh my GOD. 1 with Jeddy for the unrequited love ask. I'm sorry.

oh GOD

Every time James saw Teddy it got harder to hold in.

Every look, every smile Teddy sent his way,  even if it was all the way from the Hufflepuff table, the confession, the feelings, got harder to hold back. It got all the way to the point where James was literally swallowing the words and biting his tongue in an effort to respond with a ‘hello’ and not ‘I love you’ when Teddy bumped shoulders with him in the hallway. James can’t even think how he’s been getting through their Tuesday library “study” sessions. They never actually get any work done, and just end up sneaking sweets from the kitchens and, on this night as it was particularly warm, heading down to the lake and collapsing under the old tree there. And the words are on the tip of his tongue with every laugh that causes Teddy to squeeze his eyes shut and throw his head back.

They’re right there when they’re laying, shoulder brushing shoulder, in the grass, staring up at the infinite sky.

“This is probably one of my favorite things to do in the world.” Teddy sighed, lacing his fingers over his chest, “Just, how can someone look up at that, all those stars and not be… fucking amazed?”

James snorted, “Well I think you have enough enthusiasm about it to make up for a few people not caring.”

Teddy laughed, elbowing James softly in the side and shaking his head, “Sod off. It’s brilliant.” They lapsed into silence for a moment and James watched Teddy watch they sky. Teddy turned his head, fixing his eyes on James, “You love it don’t you, James?”

James swallowed, eyebrows raising and cheeks flushing slightly at how close Teddy was. He blinked a few times, “I..” And the words- the words are right theretherethere, “I love- you.”

Teddy sucked in his breath a little. He stared at James, James stared at Teddy. The summer night air suddenly felt too hot around James. And when Teddy let out the first laugh, it was practically suffocating him.

Teddy cooed at him, “Aw, Jamie, I love you too!” Teddy let out another laugh, eyes squeezing shut. James just laid there, looking at him, feeling like he wanted to sink right into the grass.

“Merlin. I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” He let out a few last laughs between words, looking back to James, “And the look on your face, talk about-“

James watched Teddy’s smile falter as, he was fairly sure, the look Teddy had seen was still written across his face. Only it was no doubt mixed with mortification.

“Real…” Teddy finished softly, smile dropping and being replaced by guilt and realization. He opened his mouth to say something a few times but never did.

James tore his eyes away, “I-“ He could barely get the words out of his throat, “sorry.”

Teddy sat up on his elbows, “I- Fuck. No, James-“

“No, I think that’s all there is too it.” James sat up too, facing away from Teddy and pretending to gather his cloak that he’d bunched on the grass as a pillow. His cheeks burned, his eyes burned, he wished he could burn.

He felt Teddy’s fingers against his shoulder and he stood up, “Please.” James said shortly, “I-“ James stooped, snatching up his cloak, “Let’s just-“

James-“

“Don’t, T. Teddy…“ He corrected himself.

Teddy stood too, pulse wild underneath his skin. He couldn’t stand the hunched way James was standing, the way his back was towards him. The way his hand was shaking at his side. He took a step forward when James let out a breath, but hesitated in touching him again.

“Please look at me,” he tried carefully, “James, I didn’t- I didn’t think-“

“Yeah, I know.” James’ hand raised to his face and Teddy knew he was rubbing at his eyes, his temples. He sighed, letting his hand drop. He still didn’t turn around, “I know and this really- really can’t get any worse for me right now so please, just-“

He made a motion, palm pushing out towards the ground.

Just don’t it said.

He left Teddy standing there under the tree, guilt eating him up inside and desperately wanting to call out his name.

namjoon scenario | hotel towels

✨ The Classic™: The hotel only has a king sized bed, I guess we’re sharing.

💌 requested by anon // 700 words // fluff

Originally posted by bangtangirl-cutennes-v

A weekend get-away had seemed like a good idea. A weekend get-away was a good idea. Or at least, it would have been, if your best friend, Kim Namjoon, (best friend and nothing more) wasn’t forced to share a king-sized bed with you, all through a mix-up that wasn’t even your fault. No. It was the hotel staff’s fault for not listening. It was Namjoon’s fault for not specifying when he booked. ‘A room for two, separate beds please. ‘How difficult is that?

Apparently, amazingly, surprisingly… very difficult.

Keep reading

zaiqukaj  asked:

My head cannon is every time me you sit on a couch there is suddenly so many cats and dogs looking for someone to nap on.

Thousands. They materialize out of nowhere. The world has filled with infinite cats and dogs and cryptids. I must be dreaming. I can’t wake up. The animals are infinite and I stare into the furry abyss. Send help.

First Times || Joe Sugg

Originally posted by joeck

Requests are currently [ CLOSED ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 1.1k+

Summary: In which (Y/N) has always been let down by first times, but with Joe, everything just seemed so much better. 

Dedicated to: The anon who requested this, I hope you like it!!xo




There’s a first time for everything.

If she were honest, (Y/N) had always hated that saying. It was just so obvious, so unnecessary; of course there was a first time for everything, it was simply a given. But none of her first times had been the great, from the first time she walked, talked, got drunk, bunked class, having sex - all of her first times had been, well, ordinary.

There was nothing special about any of them, and so she began to get less and less excited whenever the opportunity to experience something new came about. Sh kept hope, though, hoping that every time would be more exciting than the last. But up to now, absolutely nothing had left a lasting effect on her - and she was so done.

After living in London for nine months, she bumped into a boy, who showed her what love was. But again, he wants her first love, and that broke her hear; because gods did she wish that he had been. Her first love had been messy, horrible, a relationship with absolutely no direction.

Joe sure as hell left a lasting impression, especially since the first thing he asked her was whether or not she had a boyfriend. It’d made her giggle, and he blushed almost immediately, as if he hadn’t meant to say what he had. If it had been any other guy, she would’ve scoffed and walked away, but there was just something about Joe that made her want to know more.

And so, she agreed to go out on a date with him; which turned out to be one of the most beautiful nights of her life. He took her to a rooftop cafe in the centre of London that had the most amazing view she’d ever seen. He took her on the London Eye, and she didn’t ask why he was holding onto her hand so tightly when you stopped at the top.

But again, it wasn’t her first time.

Sure, no date had ever been quite so remarkably beautiful, but a first date was a first date, and that defiantly wasn’t hers. Though, there were small first times that she got to experience with Joe, like when they cooked a meal together for the boys one night, or when he took her on a spontaneous trip to Paris. But those first times didn’t really feel like first times, because when she was with Joe, everything just felt normal; she was never underwhelmed, and was only ever excited about everything in her life.

And that was when she realised what was happening: why all the first times just stopped mattering to her as much as they had before. She finally understood why when she and Joe cuddled at night she felt a warm tingle down her spine and wanted to never let that feeling go.

That was the only first time that seemed to matter anymore.

To comprehend the feeling of being truly infatuated with someone, you must first experience the feeling yourself. For (Y/N), her infatuation started the moment their lips brushed together - marking the end of an era and the start of another. She found herself craving his presence, not being able to fall asleep without his breathing next to her ear: something she’d never before felt the need to have.

Maybe that was why, whenever he was around, all of her troubles seemed to just melt away. He showed her how to love life, how to appreciate everything she has and not take advantage of any situation. He introduced her to his family, his parents and his sister, who all fell in love with her the moment she opened her mouth and began to nervously ramble. He brought her to meet his friends, who soon became like family to her, and suddenly she had six more brothers who all wanted to protect her from the horrors of the world.

For the first time, she knew for sure how she felt. She knew how much Joe meant to her, how much she adored every little detail about him. He was the reason she still lived in London, he was the reason why she’d never given up on anticipating her first times. And with that said, he ended up being the one person in all of her years of life to give her an incredible first time that he hadn’t even purposely given.

She’d fallen in love for the first time. She’d loved before, but that was so much different. Being in love brought up so many pent up feelings, and opened up so many doors. She learnt to trust someone fully for the first time in her life, she’d learnt how to be herself around someone who wasn’t immediate family. She’d found a whole new array of friends, who became like family to her. All within a matter of months.

There was a saying, about first times, that shed recited in her head over and over for years. First times don’t come easily. And that saying was true, because as much as shed hate to admit it, the first time she finally admitted that she was, in fact, in love with Joe, was only after two months of denying herself the glory of truth herself.

But here they were, standing on the balcony that connected onto Zoe’s spare bedroom, Joe’s arms wrapped around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder as they stand in a comfortable silence and watch the sun slowly rise up from the horizon. Nala had woken them up at five am, and didn’t seem to want to go back to sleep, and so they surrendered and managed to tear themselves from beneath the sheets just in time to stand out in the cold with their robes wrapped around their shoulders and soft smiles on their faces as they watch the sun rise in the distance.

They’d done this before, not too many times, but enough times, and yet something about this occasion made everything seem so much more magical. Whether it was the salt in the air or the way the birds were all chirping happily - they couldn’t be too sure. But when (Y/N) suddenly turns around in his arms and stares up at him intently; they’d soon learn why.

This was her first time, her first time ever actually saying those three words that held so much meaning, and yet they seemed to fall from her lips so smoothly it was amazing. “I love you.”

And there was something about the tenderness in his voice that melted Joe’s insides, made him forget that anyone else but her existed - because in that moment, they were infinite. He stares into her arms and brushes his fingers across her cheeks softly, leaning down to brush his lips against hers with a smile. “And I love you, so much.”

For a first time, (Y/N) knew that nothing could ever beat it.